


At First Sight

by BlackWiresOnHerHead



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humor, Literal and figurative wingman Poe Dameron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7620712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWiresOnHerHead/pseuds/BlackWiresOnHerHead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess arrives to the hangar late one morning and walks in just in time to see an ethereal waif emerge from the bowels of—hold on. Who do you think you are and why are you inside *MY* X-wing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	At First Sight

“Shit motherkriffing damned son of a wookie-loving—OW.” Jessika Pava’s toes slam into the doorframe as she rushes out of the bathroom, and she unleashes a new stream of curses. If getting drinks with Snap and Karé means sleeping through all her alarms the next morning, this is the last time Jess lets them talk her into it. (But then again, she said that last time. And the time before that.)

Jess is going to be late to the morning’s briefing, or maybe miss it entirely if she doesn’t leave now. She throws on her uniform and doesn’t bother zipping or buttoning. She can already imagine the Look she’ll get from “ _Commander_ ” Dameron when she runs in half-dressed, but fuck it, she’ll still be there and ready to fly. Jess scoops up her pack on her way out the door and then she’s running like hell through the barracks.

“Missed you at breakfast, Pava!” calls out one of the mess hall managers as she passes the doors. “How’d that double shot of Huttese moonshine treat ya this morning?”

“Kriff off, Hannigan!” But she’s grinning even as she bursts through the exit, the chef’s laughter bouncing off the walls behind her.

Jess makes it to the hangar in record time—they should give her an award, honestly: medal of honor to the fastest hungover sprinter in the whole Resistance—but she still missed the briefing. It’s more empty than usual, only a dozen or so people in sight. All the members of Blue Squadron must already be up in the air, then—except for their leader. She spots Poe talking to one of the mechanics and makes a beeline for him, running past to punch his arm. “Pava present and reporting for duty!” she says without slowing her pace.

“She’s alive! The way Snap was talking about last night, I assumed you took the ‘unfit for humans’ warning label as a challenge.”

“It _was_ a challenge. And I was victorious, so shove it, _commander_.”

“Insubordination is enough to get you grounded, if I felt like giving the order,” reminds Poe, but he’s smirking all the same.

“My talents are too valuable to the Resistance to ground me and you know it.”

“I don’t know, Jess, I’ve met a few Ewoks who could give you a run for your money. Some of them might even be taller than you, they won’t need a booster seat in the cockpit.”

Jess is too busy jogging backwards and making rude hand gestures at Poe to have any idea what she’s heading toward, so when she finally does turn around, she stops dead.

And listen. Maybe Jess did have a little bit too much to drink last night and still felt fairly hungover, but she was definitely stone-cold sober by the time she reached the hangar. Which means that it really isn’t an exaggeration when Jess says she watched an ethereal waif covered in dust and motor oil emerge from the bowels of a starfighter like some sort of gearhead angel _entirely in slow motion_.

Holy bantha shit.

She’s so stunned, in fact, that it takes her an entire ten seconds for Jess to realize the aforementioned waif with _really_ nice cheekbones is opening up the underbelly of the ship from which she’d just descended.

The last X-wing in the hangar.

The X-wing that belongs to Jess.

And suddenly it doesn’t matter how ridiculously great her cheekbones are, because she’s a greenie and she’s messing with Jess’s kriffing X-wing. “HEY,” she bellows, and the greenie jumps. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing to my ship?”

Huge eyes blink once, twice. Then the greenie squares her shoulders, sets her jaw. A few strands of hair fall in front of her face, framing it rather nicely, and it makes Jess even more furious. "Your controls need some adjustments."

"Like hell they do! I flew this fighter yesterday smooth as a dream, and I swear if it's not exactly the same condition I will take this socket wrench and—"

"The stabilator felt just a touch too loose and it wasn't responding as well as it should have on the turns, there was too much yaw. And besides, who made these mods to the hyperdrive? You can maximize efficiency if you alter the configuration of the coolant lines and then the jump to lightspeed will be..."

Jess doesn't hear the rest of what the universe's latest test to her character is saying. As the truth of what she just heard sinks in, Jess's vision goes all white for a split second. She shuts her eyes tight for a moment, presses her fingers to her forehead, then snaps to attention and shouts, "COMMANDER DAMERON, SIR!"

A sudden hush spreads across the hangar. Almost everyone with the Resistance knows the members of Blue Squadron pay very little heed to the line of command, at least with each other. So to hear Jessika Pava use his proper rank _and_ call him "sir"....

"Ah kriff," mutters Poe under his breath.

Jess marches over to her commanding officer and salutes. “SIR, is this cadet telling me the truth when she says—”

“She’s not a cadet, she’s—”

“SIR, is it true what this civilian—”

“Please, Jess, let’s not do this right n—”

“SIR, did you or did you not permit this greenie to FLY. MY. X-WING?”

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop in the hangar. Jess hears barely-stifled snickers from behind her. She’s pretty sure it’s one of the mechanics ( _all_ of whom know better than to get between Jessika Pava and her starfighter).

Poe puts his hands up in what’s supposed to be a calming gesture, except it’s doing the exact opposite of calming Jess.

She’s taking a lungful of air to loose some of the most creative swears in her repertoire, but then Poe is gesturing to the greenie, who still has her grimy, dirty, dainty little hands inside Jess’s ship.

“Jessika Pava, this is Rey. She has—well, let’s go in reverse chronological order, why not. She defeated Kylo Ren in a lightsaber duel, escaped capture onboard the Starkiller Base entirely on her own, evaded First Order TIE-fighters while flying the Millennium Falcon, and rescued both Finn _and_ BB-8 from Jakku. In short, she is a large part of the reason we have a complete map leading us to Luke Skywalker. And as a matter of fact, Rey is also the person the General has selected to make contact with Skywalker in a few days’ time. So yes, I did permit her to join us for our morning practice runs when she said she needed a distraction. I felt it was the least I could do for the Resistance’s newest saving grace, and we’d just _happened_ to have an unoccupied X-wing—yours—available for her in the hangar.”

If standing at attention hadn’t been muscle memory by now, Jess is sure she’d have fallen to the floor a long time ago. There are too many buzzwords to process at once—lightsaber, Falcon, Skywalker. It’s dizzying, actually. Jess’s head is spinning but she can’t stop staring at Rey, who’s staring back. And it’s embarrassing because Jess is fairly sure her mouth is hanging open but she can’t do anything about it.

Oh Force, maybe she really _had_ been descending from the cockpit in slow motion. Jedi can DO those sorts of thing.

“And Rey, this is Jessika Pava,” Poe continues. “One of the best pilots and mechanics in my squadron—hence the over-protectiveness for her X-wing. She has the eloquence of a wampa, drinks more alcohol than a Gungan drinks water, and is very sorry for getting angry with you. If you’d let her make it up to you, she will make herself available for dinner tonight so she can show you the full range of D’Qarrian cuisine. Complete with candlelight and post-dining X-wing repairs.”

This time Jess really does fall to the floor. Except she doesn’t actually remember that part.

One moment she’s in the hangar wishing to be anywhere but there, and the next moment she’s waking up in the med bay, where the medical droids waste no time before the scolding begins.

“You pilots ought to be more careful with yourselves,” clicks one of them in brisk binary. “How does any human allow itself to reach such severe dehydration?”

“I’m going to burn every last drop of that kriffing moonshine if it’s the last thing I ever do,” Jess vows quietly.

The droids fuss over her for a while longer before leaving Jess to wallow in mortification. And wallow she does, because she can’t believe Poe managed to find a way to salvage her dignity in the midst of the most gargantuan foot-in-mouth situation Jess has ever experienced, and then she went ahead and _fainted_ before anything good could come of it.

She’s never talking to Snap or Karé ever again.

There’s a knock at the door, and Jess merely groans in response.

When Rey comes into the room a few moments later holding a tray full of food, Jess can’t stop another groan—louder and more horrified.

“Uh… Poe asked me to bring this to you… and, er, also to remind you that warning labels on Huttese moonshine exist for a reason. His words, not mine. Um.” She looks down at the tray. Jess can’t help but admire her eyelashes. “Should…?” Rey shifts her weight. “Do you want me to go? I could just leave this—”

“No, you can stay,” Jess says quickly. “If you want. If you’re not prepping for the Skywalker mission and have some free time.”

_Pull it together, Pava. Don’t you mess this up._

Rey makes a small smile and sets the food on the table next to Jess’s bed. It’s a pretty impressive selection, actually. Jess can spot a couple of her favorites, plus one or two things she hasn’t seen before.

It's not the full range of D’Qarrian cuisine, but it's enough to make Rey's eyes go wide with curiosity. She starts poking different dishes with her fingers and asks Jess with soft wonder if she can explain what they are.

Next time she sees Poe, Jess is going to use one hand to punch him in the kriffing face and the other hand to give him flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. First fic published. I actually did the thing. Let me know what you think!!
> 
> And come say hi on tumblr if you feel so inclined. (blackwiresgrowonherhead)


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